Page 6 of Deadly Ruck
"Is it weird I'm a little turned on by that?" Frost asked.
"Not even a little bit," I told him. "When we get home, I can chain you up in our basement if you like."
"I'd like that," he said with barely contained glee, that he dialled back when he remembered Max was in the room. He looked over to him, an awkward smile on his face.
Max responded with a chuckle and indulgent shake of his head, has dark hair flopping onto his forehead. "If you think you can say anything that would surprise me, think again. I've been around rugby players all my life. There's not much I haven't heard or seen. Or done. I won't lie, the whole mafia thing was something I didn’t anticipate, but I should have. I was aware Dusk Bay had a dark side. Darker than other cities. I was naïve, and thought they wouldn't infiltrate the team. Of course they would. They did the same with the Demons, why not us?"
I leaned over to quickly pat his arm. "Don't feel too bad about it. They were a lot more subtle with the Smashers than they were with the Demons. I'm not even sure the owner is aware."
Ramsey cleared his throat.
I sighed. "That answers that then. Is their last name Brantley? Or Bell? Maybe Lasalle or DiMarco?"
"Mack D'Antonio," Ramsey said. "He's a close friend of Reuben Brantley. If anyone could consider themselves closeto him. When it comes to the team, he keeps a low profile. Officially, he's a businessman and the team is just another asset. It's likely he doesn't care too much what happens to the team, or at the stadium."
"He knows who King and Skinner are though, right?" Frost asked.
"He'd be aware, yes," Ramsey agreed. "That backs up my thought that Reuben wants them to make a move. He's letting them get comfortable before he destroys them."
"Or he doesn't care either." Storm scowled.
"That's possible," Ramsey conceded. "At least, about the team. He's not going to let them get a firm foothold in Dusk Bay."
Max raised his hand. "Can I ask a question? What can I do? I don't want to let these people destroy our team."
"You wait," Ramsey said. "While they think you're dead, you're safe. When this is over, the team will need its head coach back."
"I hope you have some logical explanation for my disappearance," Max said. "And subsequent return from the dead."
"It was a miracle," Frost said, holding out his hands in front of him, fingers splayed.
"It's a good question," Storm said. "What are we going to tell people?"
"Max had a bout with a 'serious illness,'" Ramsey said. "He had a miraculous recovery."
"How are we going to explain the body in the burnt out car?" Storm insisted. "He was already dead," he said before anyone could ask.
"Mistaken identity," Ramsey said easily. "He stole Max's car and got into an accident. Any other questions, we'll figure out later."
"You boys went to a lot of trouble to keep from killing me," Max said gratefully. "I appreciate that."
"Nothing you wouldn't have done for us," Storm said gruffly. "Besides, Atlas might have been able to kill you, but I couldn't. I don't want to go around killing people if I can help it."
"Lucky they didn't send Frost," Jay said. "He might have done it." He sat quietly until now, eating his soup and roll, and listening to the rest of us talk.
"Not to Coach," Frost protested. "I offered up my cottage, remember?"
"I might have remembered if I knew about this before half an hour ago," Jay said. He turned to me and added, "They left me and Dallas out of it.” His tone was tight, like he'd been quietly seething, gathering his thoughts, and now he was ready to let them out.
"You were grieving," Atlas said. "If you knew what we did, you wouldn't have been so convincing." He cocked his head at Jay, brow creased as though somehow surprised by his boyfriend's response.
"Maybe I would have." Jay squinted at Atlas. "Did it cross your mind to let me make that call? Or did you want to keep it a secret?" His dark eyes were laced with hurt and anger. He was as blindsided as I was.
Should I be angry too? Possibly, but I wasn't. I was happy to see Max and more than a little relieved Storm and Atlas hadn't killed him. They'd taken a huge risk though. Failing to follow an order like that could have gotten them killed. Keeping it from the rest of us wouldn't have been easy.
For his part, Dallas didn't look even slightly bothered. Yes, they lied, but with good reason. That was the past, he'd already moved on from it. Knowing him, he was probably thinking about fucking me, not worrying about what the other guys had or hadn't done.
"Babe, I didn't want to lie to you." Atlas draped an arm over Jay’s shoulders. "The fewer people who knew, the better. What if they suspected and asked you outright? Would you have been able to look them in the eyes and lie to them?" He silently pleaded with Jay to understand and forgive him.
